The teacher droned on and on about the mournful funerary love of Romeo and Juliet, a tale she had long since tired of. One’s sense of proportion, battered out of all shape in the daily life of cities, reasserts itself. She was very pale, but she reminded him more at that minute than at any time of “Alcide” as he had first known her. " The poor widow hung her head, and pressed her child closer to her breast. His expression altered.
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